Fate Set Right

Chapter 5

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February 14, 1975 (continued)

"I can't imagine how you've managed to hold this in all morning, Minerva," Severus heard Dumbledore faintly out in the main ward of the hospital wing.

Hermione had been placed in a private room, away from anyone who could come up for a sudden onset of stomach cramps or unbearable headache. From the exasperated look Madam Pomfrey had greeted him with when he arrived at the beginning of lunch, it had been happening quite a bit since she brought Hermione into the hospital wing that morning. The matron had directed him to her room, warned him that Hermione still hadn't regained consciousness and promptly forgot he was there. Which was fine by him, as he intended to stay until he had to leave for Arithmancy later in the afternoon. And even going to that was debatable.

As a result, he doubted the supposedly omnipresent headmaster had any idea there was a student within hearing distance, listening to their conversation.

"I've been holdin' it in 'cause you've been avoiding me, Albus. I agreed to the Vow, but I didnae think ye'd be so vicious with it," Professor McGonagall shouted.

"Not vicious. Thorough. If Riddle were to learn what she does—"

"Donae start with that," McGonagall cut the headmaster off. "How'd he'd ever get holda her?" Whatever Dumbledore said after that was too soft to hear through the closed door, but the sharp clap of a palm against skin made Severus sit up straighter. McGonagall said something else too low to make out, but there was a hissing quality to her voice that led Severus to believe the headmaster was being lectured.

He was also satisfied with the thought that the Transfiguration teacher had slapped the headmaster.

Shadows blocked out the light under the door and Severus cleared his mind so he could pretend he hadn't overheard their conversation. It always helped him lie. He turned his attention entirely on the Arithmancy book in front of him, blocking out the quiet grumbling on the other side of the door.

A snort had his act shattered in an instant. Turning toward the bed fast enough to pop something in his neck, he took in Hermione's groggy smirk with a surge of relief.

He immediately put on his best scowl. "Exactly what did you think you were doing, falling unconscious as you did?"

"Did I ruin your day?" she taunted with a scratchy voice.

"Lupin has been shadowing me from a distance all morning," he sneered. "What exactly did you say to him to get him to follow me around like a lost puppy?"

"I didn't say anything to him," Hermione said as she tried to sit up.

He placed a hand on her shoulder and firmly pushed her back down. "It's not what he said."

"Then I don't remember," Hermione replied as she weakly tried to resist him. "Why won't you let me up?"

"Probably because you came so close to death this morning you made my complexion look downright radiant. You aren't getting up until Pomfrey says you aren't going to keel over."

There was a gentle rap on the door and it opened to reveal the headmaster and a harried-looking Head of Gryffindor.

"Mr. Snape, shouldn't you be in class?" Dumbledore asked.

"I have a free period, sir," he replied, doing his best to be civil.

"Ah, well, perhaps you should—"

"Albus," McGonagall hissed as she went to Hermione's side.

Dumbledore stared at her, then conceded with a nod. He looked at Hermione. "Miss Granger, I trust you understand what happened?"